


Moments in the Life of Bellinda Jones

by StatisticalCats (GorillaMoon)



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Bustopher is kind of a jerk, but he loves his family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GorillaMoon/pseuds/StatisticalCats
Summary: Some important events in the life of Bellinda Jones, sister of Bustopher.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Moments in the Life of Bellinda Jones

Murad - Alonzo  
Quaxo - Mistoffelees  
Pearlettrea - Victoria  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At first glance, Bellinda Jones was quite like her brother. Like Bustopher, she was quite a large cat, living a life of indulgence, which of course included the best food a cat could desire. She was used to the finer things in life and held herself in such a way that you knew she came from a family of high status. Something that her brother thought she should remember more often.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a normal occurrence, the Jones siblings walking together to visit various high-brow clubs. It was also, unfortunately (in Bustopher’s opinion) a normal occurrence for him to turn to address his sister, only to find her no longer beside him. 

Bustopher did his best to keep from expressing his annoyance. It was not proper to show such horrid emotions to the world. Rather, he calmly swept his gaze over his surroundings, before settling his eyes on one particular alley. It wasn’t unusual for various street cats to prowl around the clubs the Jones family frequented, hoping to be privileged with high quality scraps left and thrown away as rubbish. And just as his sister suddenly disappearing was a normal occurrence, so was finding her engaging with this same, lower-class crowd. 

Suppressing a sigh, and discreetly looking around to make sure no one he knew was there to witness him, he made his own way to the alley, where Bellinda was smoothly conversing with two toms who were _not at all_ the type of company a molly of her status should be keeping. Now, Bustopher considered himself a rather progressive sort. He held no ill will towards anyone, and he treated those of lower standing than him with the same politeness he treated his equals. But like any well-educated cat, he knew there were some groups who were simply _not_ meant to mix. So as tactfully as he could, Bustopher interrupted the pair of toms shamelessly admiring Bellinda’s curves, and Bellinda _much_ too comfortable under their impolite gaze. 

Bellinda was always pouty after her brother would drag her away from such situations. “You always ruin my fun!” she accused.

“There should be no fun to be had with that sort.” Bustopher replied, still keeping a stealthy eye out to make sure none could hear.

“They’re just cats.” she stated firmly, frowning slightly in displeasure.

“Yes, they are cats. Street cats who would gladly take advantage of your kindness!”

“It’s not taking advantage if I’m offering!” she snapped, and Bustopher wasn’t sure they were talking about the same thing.

Letting a small sigh escape, he softened his tone. “Cats like that… They think nothing of hurting others to benefit themselves. Theirs is a violent life, not something to be emulated. ...I don’t want to see you hurt, Bellinda.” He let his air of propriety dissipate for a moment, his genuine concern flitting across his face.

Bellinda sighed. “I know, Bustopher.” she replied softly with a quick, affectionate nuzzle. But the tone of her voice made it clear she still wasn’t happy.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bustopher didn’t know if he should be happy or not that he was apparently important enough to his sister to deserve a goodbye.

“You can’t be serious? Giving your whole life, _our_ life, away to become a common _street cat_?!” Bustopher was not usually one to let impolite emotions show, but he could not conceal the anger and horror that had been building up long before this moment.

“I’m not giving away my life, I’m living it!” Bellinda was even angrier than him it seemed, her fur raised, tail whipping side to side. “Life isn’t just about extravagant food, clubs, and playing pretend all the time to impress cats you don’t even care about!” 

“So you’d have life be about wandering dirty streets and fighting like rats over the smallest morsel of disgusting food?”

“It’s not all like that, which you’d know if you ever bothered to get to know any of them! But they may as well be cockroaches to you!”

 _Now_ Bustopher was plain offended. “I have _always_ been _unfailingly_ polite t….”

“You don’t treat them like cats! Not really! I don’t know if you treat _anyone_ like a cat! This world we were born into, it’s all lies and putting on airs. I can’t tell if anyone even likes each other at all! Because apparently it’s _impolite_ to care about others or have any fun.” 

Bustopher blustered but could come up with no further responses, and the siblings stared hardly at each other as tension fully surrounded them.

Bellinda’s eyes were damp as she left her old home. “Goodbye, brother. Hopefully your “friends” will still be willing to be seen with you, having a shameful sister like me and all ....”

Bustopher said nothing and she was gone from their home.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bellinda was willing to admit, life on the streets was harder than she expected. She wasn’t stupid, she knew it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. But perhaps she hadn’t really realized just how spoiled she was in her old life. She would go off on “wild” street adventures, but she always had a warm, comfortable home, and substantial food waiting for her whenever she returned.

Now there wasn’t really anywhere to “return” to. Street cats could have their territories, but it was naive to treat them as solid homes. You always had to be prepared for something to happen that would warrant you leaving any place you started to feel comfortable in. It was doubly hard for a cat like Bellinda, who even in the streets was too independent to attach herself too much to any of the loose groups that formed among the feral cats, though she had successfully gained various friends and “allies” who she could usually rely on for help if the need ever arose.

But overall, she was much happier in her new life than she had been in her old, “privileged” life. She may not have the ready supply of comfort and food she once had, but she also didn’t have stifling behavior expectations, or the pressure to please superior-acting cats she didn’t even like. She could choose her own friends now, and not worry about any scandal over her “impropriety”. Any regrets she had were quick to fade away.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bellinda was honestly surprised when she saw Bustopher again, for the first time in years. While she visited the alleys of clubs, she was always careful to avoid any that her brother frequented. But as savvy as she had become, it apparently never occurred to her that Bustopher’s club list would change over time. It also never occurred to her that _Bustopher_ would approach her first in the thought unlikely event of the siblings coming across each other again.

The two were silent for a moment, surprised by the unexpected reunion, and carefully studying each other. Bellinda’s study was quick, her brother appeared largely unchanged. Bustopher’s study was more focused, inspecting his sister in a carefully blank-faced manner, not revealing the concern that still wrapped around his mind, or the faint calming happiness he felt at seeing that, while she had expectedly lost weight on the streets, her curves were still evident enough to confirm she was healthy, not starving.

“Hello, Bellinda.” 

“...Hello, Bustopher.”

“I… trust you are well?” he inquired, with uncharacteristic awkwardness. 

“Yes, thank you. And you?” she responded with a long unpracticed detached politeness. 

“Oh, yes, quite well. Quite well, thank you.” Bustopher nervously smoothed his paws over his coat. Bellinda didn’t think she had ever seen Bustopher lose such control of himself other than the last time they had seen each other….

A tense silence fell over the two, neither knowing how to proceed, but not quite wanting to leave either. The silence was broken by soft paw-steps entering the alley and approaching Bellinda from behind. Bustopher couldn’t stop his expression of surprise as a black and white tom-kit, with an eye patch identical to Bellinda’s came into view, carefully inspecting Bustopher as the kit stopped at Bellinda’s side. Bustopher inspected the kitten as well, surprised to see that while somewhat scruffy, the young tom held himself with the same air of importance as his mother still did. He wouldn’t appear too out of place in a refined crowd. 

“...Mother?” he ventured, when neither adult seemed to make any move to speak.

His voice seemingly snapped Bellinda out of her shocked state and she gave him a small smile, draping an arm over his shoulders.

“Murad,” she spoke to him fondly, and gestured nervously towards her brother. “This is Bustopher ...m-”

“Your brother?” Murad interrupted with some surprise. Not just from him, Bustopher looked between mother and son, in some disbelief that this kitten, _Bellinda’s_ kitten, his _nephew_ , knew who he was. 

“Yes.” she confirmed. “My brother Bustopher Jones. Bustopher,” she turned back to him, some brightness in her eyes. “..this is my son, Murad.” 

“Murad,” Bustopher greeted. His Jellicle name, no doubt. It was customary for cats in the Jones family to only go by their human given names. It was odd to Bustopher, using a Jellicle name, especially for a relative, but then, Murad obviously had no human name to use. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” he managed, some emotion cracking through his voice.

Murad’s ears twitched in some discomfort at the very present tension that surrounded the trio, but he replied, “It’s nice to meet you too… Uncle.” he glanced nervously between his mother and Bustopher, afraid of misstepping but the title was allowed to settle in the air.

The tension lessened, though words were still difficult to find, until Bustopher suddenly straightened. “Wait here a moment, would you?” he requested and then left the alley with some purpose.

Murad glanced nervously at his mother. “Should we wait?” he asked, unsure of this posh cat’s, his _uncle’s_ , intentions. 

Bellinda’s face twisted slightly in confusion but after a short moment, she nodded. “I don’t know what he’s doing, but he wouldn’t hurt us or anything like that.” she assured her son.

The pair waited for Bustopher to come back and when he did, he was holding a cloth bundle in his paws. Bellinda and Murad’s noses twitched. Mutton.

“Now, I know you don’t really care for such things,” Bustopher started, holding the bundle out towards her. “But as a gift from me? ...Just to ease my silly mind?” Some, perhaps forced, lightness laced his voice and he ventured a small smile.

She looked at him, unsure. “...I don’t want to take advantage…”

“It’s not taking advantage if I’m offering,” he replied, making her look turn sharp at first, before a more relaxed smile settled on her features.

“Thank you, Bustopher.” She took the bundle from him as a more natural smile spread across her brother’s face to match hers. 

Her smile faded as she glanced over his shoulder and she stepped back with a sigh. Murad bristled slightly at his mother’s sudden unease, glancing around as if expecting a threat. “They’ve noticed you, Bustopher.” 

Confusion crossed his face until he too glanced over his shoulder to see several of his fellow club cats whispering to each other and stealing glances at the group in the alley.

He paused, nervousness building again, before taking a deep breath and straightening himself up, turning back to Bellinda and Murad.

“There’s nothing wrong with looking after one’s family.” he firmly stated, the somewhat haughty, cultured tone returning to his voice, but with an honesty usually not heard.

She returned his gaze, and her eyes brightened. “Indeed.” she agreed, a soft smile returning to her face.

The trio chatted for a while more, Bellinda, with some surprise, telling Bustopher the general area she usually stayed in, though she reminded him that street cats don’t really have “homes” in the same sense as he does. Despite that, after parting ways, it wasn’t unusual for Bustopher to “just happen” to be passing by her area, even though it was not at all the type of place he’d usually be. He would usually have a gift of food with him during these “passings by”, though he was careful to not appear or bring too much, as to not cause his sister any unhappiness about having this small privilege not shared by other street cats. She was somewhat surprised that he never seemed to run into any trouble during these times. But she suspected the friendships she had built were working in Bustopher’s benefit. Both were happy to have this rebuilt relationship, however small and intermittent it was. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The only time Bellinda ever asked for her brother’s help was when she gave birth to a litter of non-Jellicle kittens. She was mad at herself for never thinking and planning for this possibility. After all, it was extremely common for Jellicles to have at least one non-Jellicle litter. Perhaps this was her being too naive again.

Jellicle cats were special, blessed by the Everlasting Cat with higher knowledge, and dexterous bodies. And while Bellinda cared for her non-Jellicle litter the same as she cared for Murad, she knew they weren’t as fit for street life as their Jellicle brethren. This life had danger for every cat, but it was especially hard for non-Jellicles. Bellinda couldn’t bear the thought of her kittens meeting a horrible end as was so common, so, once her kittens were old enough to no longer need her milk, she quickly came to a decision. 

She called Murad to her and they gathered up the four small kittens in their arms and for the first time since she left her old life, Bellinda went to her old neighborhood. She couldn’t bring herself to go to the house itself, but she settled her group in an area she knew her brother would pass on his way to and from his clubs. 

She held tightly to the two kittens in her arms as they waited, taking slow, deep breaths as she watched Murad clutching his other two siblings, keeping a calm demeanor though an aura of uncertainty was a palpable presence around him. 

“We’re doing what’s best for them, Murad. Even if it means we can’t be with them.” she assured her son, voice wavering only slightly.

Murad said nothing, but a quick nod of his head let his mother know he had heard.

Finally, Bustopher came passing by on his way back to his human home, walking up to them with clear surprise.

“Bellinda? What are you doing here?” He seemed to want to ask something else, but swallowed the words before they escaped.

“Bustopher. Brother.” she greeted in a softly pleading voice. “I hoped I would never have to do this… But I need your help.”

Bustopher took in the full group, gaze trailing over the four kittens held firmly by their mother and brother. Not Jellicles, he assumed. It was very rare for Jellicles to be born in litters any bigger than twins. His understanding was apparent to Bellinda as she spoke again.

“They won’t do well on the streets. Cats like them… they have it so much harder. _I can’t let harm come to my kittens, Bustopher._ ” 

There was a fierceness in her voice Bustopher had never expected to hear from her. It occurred to him at that moment that even after he had met Murad, he hadn’t really had an image of his sister as a queen, a mother. But it was very evident now, in the set of her jaw, and strength and brightness of her eyes. There was no denying this cat was a queen, ready to do anything for her kittens.

“I don’t ask you to share your home, but you know the humans here more than I do. Please, find them humans? They _need_ humans, Bustopher.” 

There was a dampness to her eyes, but even without that, Bustopher couldn’t refuse her. How could he call himself a Jones if he didn’t help his family?

So, Bellinda and Murad bid an emotional farewell to the litter. Custom said that non-Jellicle cats did not have three names. More superior, traditional Jellicles would say they only had one, the name given to them by humans. More open-minded Jellicles would say they had two, their human name, and the Name that only the cat themself knows, given to them by the Everlasting Cat. But everyone agreed that Jellicle Names were, of course, meant only for Jellicle Cats.

But Bellinda had never liked rules. And she whispered the Names of her kittens as she said goodbye, with no way of knowing if they understood.

Maybe, if she was careful, she could visit them sometimes, remind them of their Names. She comforted herself with this thought as she left with Murad, trusting the judgement of her brother to find them good homes.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bellinda rested in a modest den and groomed two kittens. One was a black and white tuxedo patterned tom Named Quaxo. The other was a pure white molly Named Pearlettrea. Jellicles, and twins. Her oldest son, who now went by the human given name Alonzo, accepted from a passing sailor he took a liking to, was out hunting. Whether that meant she could expect fresh caught prey or food from humans, whether stolen, foraged, or begged for, she didn’t know. But food was food, and it was especially important to a nursing mother.

She was patient, waiting for her son’s return, but her ears perked up at the sound and scent of a rather large rat coming near. If she was quick, she would be able to catch it without straying too far from her kittens. So with a loving nuzzle to the twins, she carefully exited the den to pursue her prey.

Half of Bellinda’s mind was focused on the rat, the other half was focused on her hidden kittens, making sure to stay aware of that area as she traveled away from it. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t notice the black and ginger tom until he was right in front of her. 

The rat scurried away, forgotten, as Bellinda raised herself up and studied the mystery cat who had interrupted her hunt. He was quite tall, his shoulders adorned by a fair sized mane that seemed to be withering away from neglect. Bellinda was used to seeing disheveled cats on the streets, and she was also used to being looked at with certain types of gazes. But there was something in the sharp glint of interest in this tom’s eyes as he studied her right back, leaning closer and not even trying to hide a deep sniff of her scent. 

She stopped herself from stepping back, knowing that showing discomfort was rarely any help in bad situations, and opened her mouth to question his intentions, but the tom spoke first.

“I smell magic on you.” he purred. His voice was deep, captivating, but Bellinda wasn’t one to fall under the sway of pretty words. 

Instead, her mind flashed to her den, as things clicked into place at the words of this strange cat. She could tell there was something special about her Quaxo. Things seemed to _happen_ around him, things she had no explanation for. Hearing him call to her when she was out of the den, seemingly right behind her, only to find him still safe and sound with his sister in their nest. The blankets of their nest seeming to have rearranged themselves when she wasn’t looking. Sometimes, she even thought she could see faint glimmering, like stars, on her little son’s coat.

 _Magic._

It was clear to her now, just as it was clear that this tom’s ...interest in magic wasn’t a healthy one. Her mind started working quickly, coming up with possible responses that wouldn’t endanger her kittens, but the tom took another quick step towards her before she could say anything.

“Well? Do you have magic?” he demanded.

Her mind came to a halt as she latched onto the opportunity he had given her. He wanted a magic cat? She could work with that.

“Yes.” she replied, her tone as convincing as possible. “Yes, I have magic.”

He smiled then, in a mockery of happiness that made her wonder if he even knew what that emotion felt like.  
“Show me.” he ordered her.

Her mind raced again, forming different paths she could take. Bellinda was skilled at reading cats and their emotions, and in this case she latched onto a slight focus point in the way this tom spoke of magic. As if it was hard to find. As if a magic cat might not be willing to reveal themselves.

“Not here.” she replied, hoping she had read things right. “This isn’t a safe area, we should go somewhere else.”

He stared at her silently for what felt like an eternity. He was an intelligent cat, she could tell, but there was the barest hint of desperation in his apparent search for magic. Perhaps it was important enough to him to leave him more willing to risk being tricked.

Her hunch seemed to be correct as he carefully nodded to her, though some suspicion glinted in his eyes. “Alright, but let’s not waste any more time than we need to. How far are you planning to go?”

“Oh, not too far. I just don’t want anyone ...unwanted, to see us. See me.” And she began walking, away from her den, the tom following uncomfortably close behind her, stare never faltering. She kept herself from showing any sort of attention to the kittens she was leaving. They were safer, hidden in the den, even without her, than they would be if this tom was given awareness of them.

She tried to ease the tension, lower his walls of suspicion. “My name is Bellinda, by the way.” she offered, lightly flicking his chin with the tip of her tail. 

He stayed silent for a moment, and she was ready to accept she wouldn’t get an answer before he spoke, “Macavity.” It was given curtly, she would get no more information about him.

That was fine, she decided. She spoke truthfully when she said there wasn’t too far to go. She only had to keep him occupied long enough to reach the nearby docks. Cats could always be found there, most coming and going, but there was a steady group that had claimed the area as their own. She had grown a good friendship with these cats, and was fairly certain the fatherhood of her kittens could be traced to some combination of them. They would help her if she could lead this Macavity to them.

They had to help her.

Hope sprung high in her as the docks came into view, but it was quickly crushed by a low growl behind her, and suddenly she was on the ground, the harsh sting of claw wounds forming on her back. Macavity loomed over her, anger flowing from him, and it seemed to Bellinda like their surroundings had suddenly gotten darker.

“You think me a fool, Bellinda?” he hissed, as she huddled on the ground. She tried to get up but it felt as if a thick fog was clouding her mind, and every time she made any progress, the fog would turn solid, and pain would shoot through her head.  
“You can not lead me into an ambush.” he growled. 

_How did he know?_

He laughed coldly. “You’re no magic cat. You know nothing! You’ve wasted my time!” 

Bellinda’s mind couldn’t race anymore, couldn’t form any paths of what to do. She pushed against the penetrating fog in her mind with all the strength she had in her, and for a moment, she felt a flashing burst rip through her head, leaving a strange sense of calmness, of success behind, even as Macavity loomed closer, and the stinging of claws returned with more purpose.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bellinda never returned to her den. But some passing cats would be startled by a sudden burst of light flashing from the hidden nest. Only to be left confused when, upon investigating, they found the place empty, the only creatures to be found being a pair of dead fish, side by side in the middle of the blankets, a faint smell of a human market quickly fading away.


End file.
